“I’m not walking down six flights,” Sunil complained.
“It’s my opening night, so you have to do whatever I say,” Delphi insisted. “Besides, it’s your fault I got stuck in that damn elevator in the first place!”
“How is it my fault?” he asked indignantly.
Delphi prodded his chest with her long, filed fingernail. “You brought me bad luck when you uttered the name of the Scottish play. You cursed me!”
Sunil threw an imploring glance at Isobel, who put her finger over her lips and gave her head the tiniest shake.
Delphi, taking his silence as an admission of guilt, spun him around and frog-marched him triumphantly down the stairs in front of her. Isobel found Delphi’s sudden possessiveness of Sunil highly amusing. Maybe Delphi knew she only had a few hours before the magic of being seen onstage wore off, but Isobel thought it was more likely a direct result of her own romantic trials of the night before, which she had faithfully recounted to Delphi when she’d finally crawled out of bed at two o’clock that afternoon.
“Man!” Delphi had exclaimed. “Ever hear of too much of a good thing?”
“Yeah, well, now I got plenty of nothin’,” Isobel had said, bundling up against the snow. “No, I take that back. I’ve got two wounded male egos. And I refuse to suck up to either of them.”
“That’s the spirit,” Delphi had said. “See if either of them tries to contact you. That’ll tell you everything you need to know. You know how sometimes you aren’t sure whether or not you want an acting job, and then when you get it, you’re either immediately elated or your heart sinks?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s the same with men.”
Isobel wasn’t sure she agreed, since she had been some version of elated while kissing both Hugh and James. Still, she had to admit that despite having spent more time tangling with Hugh, her brief encounter with James was somehow more memorable.
“On the other hand, sometimes you don’t get that feeling of elation or despair until you find out you didn’t get the job. Or the guy,” Isobel had said, meaningfully.
She’d left Delphi pondering this as she wended her way back to Dove & Flight to clear out her stuff and say good-bye to the few people she cared about. She’d decided that after everything, she didn’t want to stay there long-term. Besides, with Aaron taking over Dorothy’s accounts, there was no real need for a second junior associate beyond Penny. Even so, Isobel found herself a little sorry to leave Dove & Flight. She had felt appreciated there in way she hadn’t at any other temp job, and there was no knowing what James might have in store for her next. The way they’d left things, she wouldn’t be surprised if he sent her to the morgue on an open-ended assignment. From Dove & Flight, it was on to visit Katrina in the hospital to explain, apologize, atone—whatever was necessary to make up for the fact that she had been so quick to assume the worst of her old friend, who had only ever assumed the best of her.
At the office, she’d thanked Jimmy for being so helpful, and confided her misguided final suspicion of Wilbur.
Jimmy had brayed with delight at the thought. “American Gothic meets American Psycho! Ladies and gentleman, stick a pitchfork in him, he’s done!”
Isobel couldn’t help but laugh. “Jimmy, you are an original. There is nobody else out there whose mind works the way yours does.”
He pulled a face. “Which is why I’m alone.” Then he brightened and took her hand, which he kissed with real tenderness. “I shall miss you, melodious songbird.”
“And I you.”
Liz had given her as big a hug as her expanding belly would allow. “You’re out a week ahead of me,” she confided. “I handed in my resignation. I’ll go to Angus’s memorial, and then I’m done with this place.”
Isobel hesitated. “I have to ask you something.”
Liz met her gaze for a moment, and then looked away. “About the Brazil emails.”
Isobel nodded. “Why did you try to pin it on Katrina?”
For the first time, Liz’s strong, confident voice faltered. “I got fired from my last job for something similar, which also wasn’t my fault, strictly speaking. Aaron never told Barnaby which of us sent the emails. He stressed the fact that they’d been approved by the client. I don’t know why I lied to you. I guess I didn’t want you to think badly of me, and now of course, you think worse.” She gave a sad chuckle.
“No, I don’t. Getting to know you has been one of my favorite things about working here. I wish I’d known you in college.”
Liz laughed. “Are you kidding? We’d never have gotten any work done!”
The metal staircase began to creak and groan, as Barnaby’s bellow echoed, “Is there anyone left in this place to actually do some fucking PR? We could use a little after the shitpile we’ve landed in!”
Isobel had recognized her cue and bolted, and as she’d left Dove & Flight for the last time, she’d resolved to enjoy Delphi’s opening night and not worry about securing another temp job until after the weekend. Now, as she, Delphi and Sunil emerged onto the snowy sidewalk, Isobel found she was glad to savor Delphi’s triumph without either James or Hugh in tow, let alone both. They started down the street toward the bar where Graham and the rest of the cast were assembling.
Isobel gave Delphi’s gloved hand a squeeze. “You were really, really good.”
“Thank you.” Delphi’s eyes shone with pleasure. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“Because I’m such a knowledgeable Shakespearean?”
Delphi elbowed her. “No, stupid. Because you’re my best friend.”
Sunil turned to face them, continuing to walk backward. “And what, pray tell, am I?”
Delphi gave her head a haughty shake. “‘Not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door, but ‘tis enough. ‘Twill serve.’”
“You just compared me to a deadly wound!” he cried. “‘Have at thee, boy!’”
He lunged at Delphi, who grabbed him around the waist, and sent him flying back in the other direction. He skidded on a patch of ice and caught himself, laughing and spluttering, on a fire hydrant.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Isobel admonished her. “But after last night, I will never, ever fault you for quoting Shakespeare again.”
Sunil righted himself and brushed snow off his jacket. “Hey, you know who else was really good?”
“Gary Stinson,” Isobel said. “He was terrific.”
“No. The girl who played Blanche. Hey, Delphi, you think you could get me her number?”
Sunil grinned mischievously and ran ahead to open the door.
Delphi’s mouth dropped open.
“Come on!” Isobel grabbed Delphi’s arm and ushered her into the warmth of the bar. “‘The course of true love never did run smooth.’”
“You’re telling me,” Delphi said, and she let the door slam shut behind them.
# # #
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